#Benjamin Poindexter x reader

[endless-ineffabilities]

there aren't enough benjamin poindexter fics on this hellsite and someone's gonna have to do something about it pls I'm too busy don't do this to me I can't be the hero here okay

[amberlynnmurdock]

Dressing Room

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader Insert

Summary: Dex takes guarding your dressing room at Lululemon a little too seriously.

Genre: FLUFF and a little angst

Note: I'm sorry if this isn't my strongest! I felt like writing a cute little something for Dexy since he's BACK!!!! <3 <3 my DDBA thoughts will have to be another post. ENJOY!

Dex guards the door with his arms crossed in front of him, suspiciously eyeing every person who walks by. It’s reminiscent of the missions he’s been placed on in the past—guarding the door for witness protection, guarding the door of a criminal. It's the same concept, really. Make sure no one gets to whoever is behind the door he guards. Deathly stare at anyone who even glances in his direction. 

A bead of sweat trickles down his back from the heat in the room. Every muscle in his body tenses at every sound he hears. Boots scuffing the wood-paneled floor, paper ripping—all send his heart rate skyrocketing and his eyes scanning the room obsessively for any kind of threat. It was important to him that he be aware of anything and everything. It was important to him that people know he sees them. 

An older woman approaches him. Before she can say anything, Dex holds out his hand to stop her. 

“This dressing room is occupied,” he says in his FBI agent authoritative voice. His eyes darken at her audacity. The woman cowers at his stern, unfriendly look and quickly walks away with shirts draped over her arm—as she should, Dex thinks. 

“Sir,” a male voice comes from his side. “I’m the manager. You don’t work here. I’m going to have to ask you to not scare our customers in the dressing room if you’re not trying anything on. There’s no reason for you to be standing here.” 

No reason? Dex looks at the man but hides his incredulous look. Dex has every reason to be standing in front of the dressing room you’re in—he has to make sure you’re safe. 

“I’m waiting for my girlfriend,” Dex states without a flinch, tightening his arms in front of his chest. 

“You can wait for her on the couches in the middle of the room,” the manager explained calmly. “You don’t need to guard the door.”

Frustration bloomed in Dex’s chest. What was so hard to understand? “Yes, I do. I need to make sure she’s safe.” 

“Sir, this is a Lululemon.” 

“Dex?” You open the door ajar to peek at Dex, standing in his FBI-esque stature, arms crossed and deathly glaring at anyone and everyone. Now, the manager fell victim to such a harsh glare. When Dex heard your voice, it was the only moment his expression softened. He looked at you attentively, as if the manager wasn’t there. “Could you tell me if you like this jacket?” 

Dex looked from you to the manager beside him, watching him suspiciously. When no one said a word, you sighed in exasperation and looked at the manager.

“Can my boyfriend please help me in the dressing room? He’ll be out once I get his opinion.”

“Sure,” the manager said. “But please also tell him to stop scaring our guests away.”

“I will,” you flashed a smile at him as he walked away. You uncrossed Dex’s arms and grabbed his hand, leading him into the dressing room. You shut the door, and Dex beat you to locking it. 

“Dex,” you said softly. “Why are you scaring people away?” You asked with an amused smile on your face. You were used to him being protective—you found it very endearing that he acted somewhat like your personal bodyguard, even if you were at a casual establishment like Lululemon. Dex’s face softened as he sighed.

“I just want to make sure no one will walk in on you,” Dex said. “I’m sorry if I was aggressive.”

“No, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving his upper bicep a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate how protective you are over me.”

Dex shrugged. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe,” you affirmed. “Whenever I’m with you.” 

Dex smiled and held your gaze for a moment. You shrugged and tugged at the seams of the jacket you tried on.

“Well, what do ya think?” You asked him, breaking eye contact to look at yourself in the mirror. Dex was still looking at you, but as if snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at your torso and analyzed the jacket. 

“It looks perfect on you,” Dex said, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“Thank you, Dex. Do you like the black? Maybe I should try on the blue. Could you get me the light blue one out there? It’s called the Define jacket.”

Although he was captivated by how you looked, he still registered your command. “I’ll find it.”

He left you in the dressing room as he made his way back out to the main floor. The manager who scolded him before stared him down, but Dex wasn’t intimidated—he’s had much worse foes. He ignored his glare as he made his way to the table that read: Define Jacket. He found a light blue one in your size. 

Dex walked back to the dressing room area and stopped in his tracks when he saw your dressing room empty, door wide open. His alertness set in as his heart rate skyrocketed again, and this time, he was reminded of every person in his life who’d abandoned him without warning. His parents, his therapist… and now, you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone again. A deep heaviness settled in his chest, a deep sense of longing he hadn’t felt in a while overcame him at the missing sight of you. Where did you go? Dex could barely hold onto the jacket he grabbed for you. 

Were you taken? He knew this would happen—he shouldn’t have left you alone. You, your kindness, he knew could be taken advantage of so easily. He didn’t care that this was just an establishment—nowhere is guaranteed safe. That’s what they taught him in training. Suddenly, he felt an intense resentment towards the manager who berated him for standing in front of your door. This is why he “scaring” guests—this is why he was protecting you. 

No, Dex thought. It’s nobody’s fault but his. It’s his fault you slipped from his grasp—it was always his fault. The minute he found the person who took you from—Dex was already planning the ways he’d make them pay. He’s counting each hanger that hangs inside the empty dressing room—it’s how many times he’ll throw it at whoever took you from him. There wasn’t any sadness at your disappearance anymore—he felt rage. Fixated on the hangers and how easily they would slip from his fingers. 

“Dex,” he heard you call his name, and just like that—as quick as a switch—all his anxieties disappeared. Something fluttered in his chest. There you were, standing in front of a large mirror, trying on a light blue tennis dress. Your hair was disheveled from throwing the dress on, but you looked beautiful in Dex’s eyes. Angelic, even—just looking at you brought a feeling in Dex he’s not used to. At first, it was scary, but then it was just…silent. Peaceful. Only you were capable of making him even taste that feeling. “Come here,” you said. 

Dex does as he’s told but doesn’t just stop to look at you and give his opinion—you could wear anything and he would think it’s the loveliest thing. Dex wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight against him—his fears from before coming to the front of his mind. He thought he lost you. He can’t experience that feeling again.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He feels you tentatively wrap your arms around him, embracing his hold. 

“I’m sorry,” Dex said, “I thought you were gone.”

“Gone?” You giggled against him. “Where would I have gone?”

“I don’t know,” Dex mumbled in your hair.

“I’m right here.” You pulled back from his embrace to brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. 

Dex suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes—ashamed of his paranoia and for thinking the worst. “I got your jacket in blue,” Dex muttered, holding up the soft article of clothing on his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you like this dress on me? Your opinion matters to me, you know.”

His opinion matters to you. He matters. Dex looks at you again, and then he takes a step back, fully realizing the image in front of him. You looking at him like he’s the most important thing in the world, and he looking at you like you’re the most beautiful—because you are, to him. 

“It’s perfect,” Dex says quietly. It’s all he can say. The adrenaline of his paranoia from before exhausted him. You knew him well enough to know he was fighting an internal battle. And he was trying his best to hide it from you.

“Take a seat, Dex. I’m all finished up here. Let me change back into my clothes, pay and then we’ll go home,” you said softly. You pressed a soft kiss on his cheek and guided him to sit on the couches in the middle of the dressing room. 

Dex sat down at your command. In front of him was the mirror—he met his own eyes and quickly looked away. When you closed the door to your dressing room, Dex quietly got up to instead sit in front of your door, on the couch that faced it. He waited for you patiently there—just in case. 

[urdreamydoodles]

THE DEVIL'S MARK — A Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter One Shot

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter (MCU) x Fem!Reader

Description: You are in a toxic relationship with Benjamin who is obsessed with you.

Words: 1060 words

Daredevil: Born Again brought back my love for the MCU, specifically the Netflix shows, and Bullseye. DD: Born Again is so damn good.

There’s a moment, just before the blade strikes its mark, where the world stills. A breath held between fate and inevitability. The calm before the kill.

Dex savors that moment. That quiet heartbeat where precision becomes destiny, where all the noise in his mind hushes and the world makes sense—clean, ordered, obedient.

But you, you are the only thing he has ever aimed for and missed.

And the failure is intoxicating.

—

The first time he saw you, he didn’t know he was already doomed.

You walked into the room, and something inside him—something carefully conditioned, calculated, controlled—fractured at the seams.

Dex was used to knowing everything about a person before they spoke. The way they held their shoulders, the twitch of their fingers, the betrayals of their breath—tells written into the body like an open book. But you were a riddle, a cipher, a weapon wrapped in silk. He couldn't read you, and it made him reckless.

So, he studied you. Obsessed over the smallest details. The way your lips parted slightly before you spoke, the exact cadence of your voice, the subtle tilt of your head when something amused you.

He mapped you in his mind like a target, memorized the landscape of you until he could recall the details with deadly accuracy. He told himself it was about control. That knowing you meant owning you.

But the truth was uglier.

He needed you.

He needed you like a bullet needed a chamber, like a knife needed flesh, like a man on the edge needed a push.

—

The first time he kissed you, he left bruises.

Not on your skin—he could be careful when he wanted to be. No, he bruised deeper than that, down to the bone, down to something fragile and aching inside you that you didn’t even know was there.

You kissed him back, reckless, wanting. And when you pulled away, breathless and dazed, he knew—knew—that you were already his.

But Dex didn't want just your body. Didn't want just your lips, your touch, your soft sighs in the dark.

He wanted your thoughts. Your fears. Your secrets.

He wanted the darkest parts of you, the ones you hid from the world.

—

You realized too late what he was.

Maybe it was the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching. Like a predator watching prey. Like a hunter measuring distance before the kill.

Or maybe it was the way he always found you, no matter where you went. The way his fingers traced your skin like he was writing his name there, claiming you in ways deeper than touch.

By the time you understood the depth of his obsession, it was already too late.

Because you loved him.

Because no one had ever seen you the way he did, stripped bare of pretense, laid open like a wound, worshiped and devoured in equal measure.

Because the darkness in him called to the darkness in you.

—

Dex doesn’t believe in fate.

Fate is random. Sloppy. Unpredictable.

But you?

You were placed in his path like a perfect shot, a trajectory leading straight to him.

He would do anything to keep you.

And when he whispers your name in the dead of night, when his fingers tighten possessively around your wrists, when his breath is hot against your skin and his voice is a low growl in your ear—

You don’t pull away.

You never do.

Because you are just as lost as he is.

And maybe, just maybe—

You don’t want to be found.

—

At night, you are his religion.

Dex worships you with his hands, his mouth, his breath, his hunger.

There is nothing soft about him, nothing hesitant. He is a man with a target locked, a bullet chambered, a blade already sinking into flesh—precise, deliberate, lethal. And you are the mark he never intends to miss.

He doesn’t take you like a man in love. Love, as the world defines it, is something gentle. Careful. Tender.

Dex doesn’t love like that.

Dex loves like violence.

He loves like he’s carving his name into your bones, like he’s etching himself into your soul so deeply that no one else will ever be able to erase him.

And you let him.

Because what he doesn’t know—what you would never, ever tell him—is that you love it.

You love the way he needs you like an addict needs a fix. You love the way his hands tremble, the way his breath comes ragged against your skin when he’s trying to hold himself back.

You love the way he never really does.

—

There are no slow undressings, no careful caresses beneath candlelight.

Dex doesn’t make love to you. He claims you. He takes what is his, again and again, until you are breathless and shaking, until his name spills from your lips like a plea, like a prayer, like the only thing you have ever known.

He bends you beneath him like a force of nature, like gravity, like inevitability.

He leaves bruises—finger-shaped brands along your hips, bite marks at the curve of your throat. He watches them in the morning, tracing them like proof, like evidence, like he’s afraid they might fade.

They never do.

—

It’s in the aftermath that Dex is at his most dangerous.

Because when the storm of his need has passed, when the fire in his blood has burned itself to embers, he is left with only you.

And Dex, for all his skill, for all his deadly precision, doesn’t know what to do with you.

You, soft and breathless, your fingers trailing absently along the scars on his chest.

You, eyes half-lidded and lazy, wrapped in his sheets like you belong there.

You, pressing a kiss to his jaw, murmuring something sleep-soft and warm, something tender.

He doesn’t deserve this.

Doesn’t deserve you.

But that doesn’t stop him from keeping you.

From wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in, anchoring himself to your warmth.

From pressing his lips to the crown of your head, letting his breath linger there.

From closing his eyes and letting himself believe, just for a moment, that this could last.

That he won’t ruin it.

That he won’t ruin you.

—

It’s a lie, of course.

Because obsession always destroys.

And Dex has never known how to hold something without breaking it.

[shadowbriar]

Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter — Skeletons

Pairing : Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.4k Warning : Language. Domestic violence. This might be triggering so please proceed with caution. If you feel uncomfortable in any part of this fic, please just skip it entirely. Synopsis : Dex's paranoia lead him to lose his temper after she's been out of touch the whole day. Notes : I feel the need to remind that this is purely a piece of fiction. If you, or anyone else you know, is experiencing similar or any kind of abuse, please talk to someone about it. You matter. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

To say Dex was worried would be such a poor judement. He’s made one too many mistakes at work, perhaps provoked the beast that is Wilson Fisk a little too constantly, to ignite that silent wrath the powerful man often unleashes upon those who’d wronged him. A little spark in his heart hoped that he was just being paranoid, that he’s seen far too much violence in his job that it clouded his mind, but as the clock strikes midnight and her absence was still loud in their shared apartment, Dex knew that such possibility might have already become the bitter tragic reality.

His lips were starting to bleed from how much he chewed on them, fingers busy punching her name and redialling her number every time his calls went to voicemail. Any minute now, he was sure his heart would give in from the stress. Beads of sweat have started to drip from the back of his neck. Dex was worried and scared, but above all, he was angry.

He was angry at everyone at work for always throwing him under the bus. For giving him the most impractical tasks without any means of support and stomping on him whenever things went south. He was angry at Fisk for making him do his bidding. He was angry at her for giving him the silent treatment. Ultimately, he was angry at himself for letting things go so out of control.

Dex considered grabbing his jacket and just combed through the city to find her, but that little hope in his heart plants his feet to the ground, wishful that she would come through the front door any minute now. That, or he simply couldn’t bear the chance of facing the consequences of his mistakes.

His bubble of thought bursts as the sound of keys jingle from the other side of the apartment. He sprinted to the living room, waited with wide eyes as she opened the door, silently watching her from the corner of the room like a predator waiting for its prey to fall into their trap. He was too quiet for her to notice his presence as she hung her coat and scarf, kicking her shoes carelessly in the hallway.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice firm and cold.

“God, I thought you’re asleep, already,” she exclaims, clutching on her heart from the surprise “I had to stay for work. The system in my office was down the whole day, I could only start my tasks after 4pm, and I needed to finish them today.”

“And you couldn’t have called or texted?” he pressed, the veins on his forehead were becoming more visible “I’ve been worried sick, wondering where in the fucking hell you could be the whole time, do you know that?!”

She lets out a tired sigh, walking past him, “My phone died, and I didn’t bring a charger. Everyone else was already off at 5.”

“You said the system crashed, how are you the only one staying overtime for work?”

“Because, Dex, not everyone has the same deadline,” she seethes, clearly on the verge of her patience with all his pestering “Look, I’m sorry I made you worry, okay? I didn’t mean to. Now, can you please stop with the yelling and let me be? I’m exhausted, and I’m desperate for a bath.”

“No, we’re not done talking,” Dex persists as he follows her to their bedroom “You could’ve tried something, anything! Send me an email, for all I care! You don’t just go radio silent the whole day and not expect me to get angry about it!”

“Well, I’ve told you, I’m sorry, alright! I didn’t mean to get you worried and angry, I’m sorry!” she spat back, matching the rise of his voice now “And can you just shut up for a second, my head is already pounding as it is.”

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up, I have the right to be angry at you right now!”

“Fuck’s sake, Dex, what do you want from me?!” she yelled, facing him this time “I’ve told you, I’m sorry. What else do you want me to say?!”

Dex went quiet, watching her with his chest heaving. His temper was rising. The alarm in his ears was loud and he was seeing red. Turmoil was boiling in his veins and the voices in his head were begging him to grab the recordings and calm himself down, but as if he was paralysed, Dex couldn’t find it in him to move a muscle and could only let the other side of him, the worst and most shameful side of him, slowly taking the light.

“Just let this go, Dex, please,” she continues, running a hand through her hair as she walks to the bathroom “This is such bullshit.”

And that’s when it tipped him. The last words she muttered that weren't even supposed to reach his ears had become the final nail to his coffin. He grabbed her by the shoulders, twisting her so violently to the wall, hard enough to knock the pictures to the floor.

“I thought you were dead!” Dex yelled angrily, screaming to her face “I thought Fisk has gotten into you!”

She watches him with terror filled eyes. The sound of the frames breaking still rings, like gunshots to her ears, but even those didn’t match the loudness of Dex’s voice. He was angry, it was plain to see, and she knew that she’s jabbed on the monster he’s tried so hard to keep her away from. The man standing in front of her now was not her lover. No, he was entirely someone else. Someone that shouldn’t have been brought to life, in the first place.

The silence stretched forever. The only sound heard now was his loud panting and the small hissing of her lips as the tiny cracks of glass stab her bare feet. She was afraid, in pain, and above all, confused as to how their argument escalated this way.

“Dex,” she called with a voice barely above a whisper “Come back to me.”

And as if he’s been slapped across the face, the man slowly regained his composure. He blinks, taking a step back and retrieving his grip that would surely leave some bruise on her shoulders. His breathing hitch as he looks at the mess he’s made. There was a small pool of blood on the floor from her wounded feet, his own knuckles sore and bleeding from the impact to the wall, and when he looked up to see her face, that one lovely face that he worshiped so much of, now filled with horror and uncertainty, Dex knew that he’s came to a point of no return.

“I-I— I just— I’m sorry,” he breathed, swiftly taking her off of her feet and carrying her to the bed “I don’t know what came into me, I’m so sorry.”

She watches in silence as Dex hurriedly tends to her wounds. His body is still emitting rage, movement almost robotic as he kneels to clean the shards of glass. The muscles on his shoulders were still tense. One wrong movement and she fears she might unleash the beast once again.

She knew that Dex wrestled with his demons more nights than not. That the recordings with Dr. Mercer, though he still listens to every now and then, has had no effect to tame the fury in his head. The only thing he said to have brought him any sense of peace these days was her, but given the event that just happened, how there’s new dents the size of his knuckles and her head on the wall now, she wasn’t sure if she would still have such charm upon him.

“I’m sorry,” Dex says, this time with a firmer tone as if he was demanding her forgiveness “You have to forgive me.”

Still in silence, she waited for his next words.

“You— I mean, I wouldn’t have lashed out like this if you would just tell me where you were,” Dex reasoned, standing up and pacing a little further from her. He wipes his face with his palm, resting his hand on his jaw as he tries to recollect himself but such effort proved to be futile “You could’ve called me with your office phone. It wouldn’t even take ten seconds just to tell me you’ll be home late. Why didn’t you?!”

“Dex—,”

“I just— I thought you were hurt! I thought my job has finally bitten me back on the ass and got to you,” he pulls on his hair, still yelling in despair “I fucking love you, alright! You’re very special to me, don’t you see? I can’t lose you.”

Her gaze softened. The real Dex was coming back through the cracks of his voice.

“I just can’t lose you,” he finally cries.

Only mere moments ago, she was so afraid of the beast Dex has become, but now, standing a few feet away from her, choking in his own tears with both their wounds still bleeding, she couldn’t help but to feel sorry for him.

She opens her arms and Dex needs no words to run into it. He immediately succumbs to her embrace, burying his tear streaked face to the crook of her neck. She knew that the fear of her leaving came from a different sentiment than what a typical love would be. The fright plaguing his mind harboured from the slim chance of him finding anyone else that he could pin as his north star if she were to leave. No one understands his condition, no one bothers to listen and sit with him about it. Losing her would only make him drown in uncertainty once again.

“I love you, I’m sorry,” he repeats “Don’t leave me.”

“You’re right, I should’ve called, I’m sorry,” she whispers back, brushing the strands of his blond hair “I’m sorry, Dex.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he begs, pulling his face away so she could see the determination in his eyes “I’ll do whatever you want, just say it and it’ll be done. I’d kill for you, you know that, don’t you? Just never leave me, please.”

“Hey, listen to me, you don’t have to do anything, okay? I’m not going anywhere,” she soothes, wiping the tears off of his cheeks “Let’s not talk about it anymore, yeah? Let’s just call it a night and sleep, hm? What do you think?”

“But you said you wanted to take a bath.”

“I’m too tired for it,” she lies through her teeth “Could you get me fresh clothes, instead? I know how you hate outside clothes to touch our bed.”

Nodding like a child, Dex reaches into their closet and pulls out her pyjamas. He watches as she changes out of her dirty clothes, eyes locked on her as if he’s scared she’s bolt out of the door. Even with her gentle voice and that sweet smile plastered on her face, Dex was still on high alert.

“Come to bed, Dex,” she calls once she’s done changing “You must be tired, too.”

There was hesitation in his movement, but Dex climbed up the bed eventually. They were facing each other now, laying on their side but not particularly touching each other. This was the first fight they’ve ever had that actually brought his skeletons out and neither of them knew if the storm had truly passed. None of them dared to ask the question either as it felt like the topic was still too tender to touch.

So they only stared at each other. She studies the wrinkles on his face that slowly disappears. The way the muscles around his jaws were starting to relax, and how his breathing has come to a steady. The bloodshot anger in his eyes have dissipated too, replaced with daze and emptiness. It was as if his brain was trying its best to hit reset.

Slowly, her fingers find their way to caress his face. Dex fell into her touch in an instant. Sighing as if he’s awaited the gesture for so long. He closes his eyes, this time really trying to reach into that sense of solace that he usually was able to obtain much easier than now.

“Is this helping?” she asks softly.

“Yes,” he answers without opening his eyes “Plenty.”

“Okay,” she nods in acknowledgement “Go to sleep, baby.”

“No,” Dex shot his eyes open, fear once again filling them “You’re going to leave me.”

“I would never,” she reassures, inching closer to him “We’re in this together, aren’t we? Forever? You and me?”

He nods hesitantly.

“Then close your eyes and sleep, Dex,” she coaxes “I won’t go anywhere.”

Dex wanted to argue. He wanted to place his arms around her and pin her in place, trapping her just in case she decided to leave when he’s finally drifted to slumber, but he’s crossed too many lines tonight. He’s broken too many walls, burned too many bridges, to risk doing anything but what she asked for, so he forces himself to close those eyes and fall back into her touch. He tries to let her soothing gesture fill his senses, giving her the full control of his body.

“There we go, baby, just close those eyes,” she continues to coo, placing a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose “Rest those muscles, Dex, I know you’re tired.”

“I love you,” he whispers, begging “I just love you.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

Tears were starting to leak out of his eyes. Dex was frightened beyond words, but he promised to close his eyes, and so he did. He hates her for making him feel this way. For making him feel this helpless, full of anger yet has no power to release it, but he couldn’t find any better replacement. He couldn’t find anyone else that would keep him in line. Noone and nothing else that would guide him through the darkness of his wild ire.

Gently, she places his hand around her waist. The gesture made him let out a shaky breath, understanding that she’s giving him a chance to prove his words, “You won’t hurt me, will you?”

Dex shakes his head, “No, I promise.”

“Okay, I believe you,” she replies, her hands now brushing through his hair “Get some rest, baby.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I think you’ll wake up first than I do, actually.”

Dex lets out a nervous chuckle, easing himself down to her banter.

“I love you, Dex. You know that, don’t you?”

He nods, not saying a word.

With one last kiss to his lips, she closes her eyes. The road to land of Nod would be long and difficult tonight, but perhaps this too shall pass.

[helliloveit]

Heavens

First fanfic ever, didn’t proofread and on top of that my english is not that good so pardon me please, and let me know if i need to fix something.

Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter x reader

Warnings: Dark!Dex, reader is kinda dark too, fluff(?, Dex is obsessed with you, he stalks you.

W. C.: 800

Summary: Your coworker enters your home while you’re asleep; you don’t know what to think.

You move swiftly the key in the lock of the main door of your house, your steps always so light, your body so relaxed, the lack of sleep turning down your system even before you allowed it to do. The purse landing on your kitchen aisle, the sound of your shoes tackling no-sense on the floor as you take them off. Then the shower, your work is so damn tiring, he knows, cause little later you fall on the bed in a deep, very deep slumber.

It is so deep you can’t hear him entering there, your room, to look at you sleeping peacefully, your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your skin so soft he is aching to manhandle it between his fingers, but he’s better than that, right?

It’s okay if he tracks all your schedule, know all your friends, your likes and dislikes, your eccentric music taste, the name of your last cat that, by the way, disappeared last year when he escaped into the streets, a rainy night, just like this one. None of this had you told him, but for Dex, it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t know, after all, he’s keeping you safe.

He does remember your teary face, the way those brows contorted and the eyes, red and glassy, he did his best consoling you, yes he did, cause since then, you haven’t stop greeting him with a hug and a smile at the office, your beautiful smile, yes, he’s sure, you may love him.

———————————————————————————

You have known him for a while now, looked like the type of person who knew what to say and how to say it in the exact moment needed, weird thing cause he doesn’t talk much and that certainly made you like him, he reminded you of yourself, calm, silent yet observant, you were taught that the less you talk, the less you expressed yourself, the better the people around you will treat you. You weren’t sure if that was his reasons though, sometimes, when your eyes met his briefly, his own orbs, blue and colorful, looked empty, colorless, void, once bright teals turn themselves into dark greys without any emotion, any hint of humanity in them. And then you felt something like…dread, your mouth dry but your treacherous heart would be at the pit of your throat, and that described perfectly how you feel for him just right now.

You suspect that a rough thumb grazing your lower lip made you stumble outta your dreams, you were quick when the light coming from the window parallel to your bed faltered. A broad figure stood right by your side, you didn’t scream, or shoved him away, your blood froze inside your veins, and you was left there, like a small cat who knows that the best thing to do was stay quiet and hold together until the predator loses interest in them. This wasn’t the case.

—“I’m sorry-” His voice cracks the chill silence of the room.

“Dex? How could you-” a humid breeze grazes your skin and you suddenly don’t need any answers. He turns himself back to close the window when he notices your squint. That was the perfect opportunity to knock him down, the base of your lamp is hard enough to make him fall for a good 3 minutes, which will help you get out of the house and shout for aid, but a part of you didn’t want that. Hell if you weren’t twisted too, if you didn’t want to know how deep the emptiness of his soul will lead you.

—“Im so sorry princess i- just needed to see you.” Your face contorts in confusion, you left your shift 4 hours ago, last time you saw him.

—“Dex this is so weird i-”

—“No.” His tone is severe, stops you from settling seated on the bed. —“Please just-… i wont do anything to you just…” his knee rest tentatively on the soft mattress, you gulp, your eyes fixed in his, he seems troubled, debates with himself, fighting his urges inside his mind. A hand crossed the little space between you both to caress the side of your neck, his head tilts until his forehead is resting on yours, his shallow breathing tickling your skin.

—“Let me stay here a little longer, please…” he almost whimpers, his hand growing cold in your cheek, He must be nervous, like the world is one step away from crumbling beneath his feet.

—“This won’t happen again, i promise-” How could you say no when he is rambling and begging like this? You knew this is twisted but this isn’t like he assaulted you, is it?

You scoot over to make enough space for him in your sheets, he trails back but he catches it soon, you are offering him a warm space in your bed, a scene he has only witnessed in his most intimate dreams. He’s not dumb to let it slide so he takes off his not so wet jacket now and kick his boots away.

Sweet heavens, he feels your respiration on his neck now, so warm, so vulnerable, so his. He got it done, he got you, his method pretty away to be conventional, but that doesn’t matter anymore, no when you have your leg and arm draped over him.

Anyways he wasn’t going to leave if you told him no. Maybe he needs to put some flowers in that kitty’s grave.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Buried in the Wreckage

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x FiskDaughter!Reader

Summary: Fisk's daughter is expected to fall in line with her father on the verge of becoming the most powerful man in New York. Desperate for answers—or maybe just closure—she visits Dex, knowing that some things can’t be undone, and some wounds never heal.

Author's Note: S4 spoilazz ahead. Nerds beware.

The weight of the city felt heavier tonight. The neon glow of Hell’s Kitchen bled into the rain-soaked streets, but all she could see was him—Dex—plummeting from the rooftop, arms flailing before his body hit the pavement with a sickening crack. The sound echoed in her ears, looping like a cruel refrain. She had seen a lot of brutal things in her life, but that? That was different.

Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the sink in her father’s penthouse. The water was running, but she wasn’t washing anything. She was just there, staring at her reflection, seeing the dark circles under her eyes, the way her lip trembled no matter how hard she pressed it together.

Dex was alive. That was the miracle. The curse was that it didn’t matter.

The moment he woke up in the hospital, he was already as good as gone. The charges against him were airtight. Attempted murder, endangering the public, impersonating Daredevil. Life in prison. No appeals, no deals—just a cell and a locked door.

And she? She was expected to keep moving, to forget, to stand beside her father as he prepared to be elected mayor of New York City.

Like she could just erase Dex from her bloodstream.

A sharp knock at the door jolted her back to reality.

She inhaled, steadying herself before pulling it open.

Her father stood there, tall, imposing, always dressed like he was already in office. His expression didn’t betray much, but she saw the tension in the way he clasped his hands together.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She wanted to laugh. Ready for what? Pretending like her world hadn’t just shattered? Smiling at crowds while Dex rotted in a prison cell?

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah.”

Because that was the thing about being Wilson Fisk’s daughter.

You never let them see you break.

She left her father’s office without another word, walking down the long, marble-floored hallway, past the aides and security who barely acknowledged her. She was expected to fall in line, expected to be the daughter of a soon-to-be mayor.

Expected to forget. But she couldn't.

The moment she stepped outside, the bitter cold hit her like a slap. The city pulsed around her, alive, demanding, but she didn’t feel any of it. Her feet carried her forward, instinct more than intention.

Before she even processed where she was going, she found herself standing at the gates of Ryker’s Island.

The guards barely batted an eye when she checked in for visitation—Fisk’s name still carried weight, after all.

And yet, as she was led through the cold corridors, past rows of cells filled with men who had no future, the weight in her chest only grew heavier. The noise, the stench of concrete and metal—it all felt suffocating.

She had spent her whole life walking through halls of power, through places that demanded strength, control. But this? This was different.

This was Dex.

And she didn’t know how to face him.

The prison walls loomed over her, stark and suffocating under the fluorescent lights. The air was stale, thick with the weight of unspoken regrets and lives reduced to metal bars and numbered uniforms.

She sat stiffly in the visitation room, her hands clasped tightly together on the table. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Hey, Dex, sorry you fell off a building? Sorry you’re in here forever? Nothing felt right. Nothing felt enough.

And then he was there.

Dex walked in wearing that orange jumpsuit like it was just another uniform. His hair was a little shorter, his face a little leaner, but his eyes—they were the same. Cold, calculating, assessing her in the way only he could. But underneath that steel edge, she saw something else. A flicker of something familiar, something he used to reserve just for her.

He slid into the chair across from her, resting his cuffed hands on the table. "Didn’t think I’d see you here."

Her breath hitched. She had prepared for a lot—anger, indifference, maybe even relief that she’d come—but not this. Not the way his voice made her throat tighten.

She forced out a breath. "Where else would I be?"

Dex huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, I don’t know. Celebrating your father becoming the most powerful man in New York?"

Her jaw clenched. "You think I give a shit about that?"

"You should." His voice was flat, but she knew him too well. He was bitter. And why wouldn’t he be? He was locked in here, and she was still free.

But she wasn’t. Not really. Not when he was in this place. Not when every breath she took felt like it belonged to someone else.

She reached for his hands before she could stop herself, fingers ghosting over the cold metal of the cuffs. "Dex, I—"

"Don’t." His voice was sharper now, cutting through whatever fragile moment had been building. He finally looked at her, really looked at her, and she saw the exhaustion there, the resigned acceptance. "There’s nothing you can say to fix this."

Her lips parted, but no words came. Because he was right. She couldn’t fix this. She couldn’t undo what had happened.

So she did the only thing she could—she squeezed his hands, holding onto him like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I just needed to see you," she whispered.

Dex exhaled, something in his posture shifting, softening just enough. His fingers curled slightly under hers, the smallest acknowledgment that he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

For a moment, the bars, the prison walls, the time they’d lost—it all faded.

It was just them. Just this.

And then, too soon, the guard stepped forward. "Time’s up."

She swallowed hard, blinking back the emotion threatening to break through. Dex leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable again, slipping behind the armor of someone who had nothing left to lose.

She stood slowly, reluctant, her hands lingering on the cold metal table. "I’ll come back."

Dex didn’t nod. Didn’t say anything at all. But as she turned to leave, she felt it—the weight of his eyes on her, following her even as the door shut behind her.

And for now, that was enough.

[takenbypeter]

Can you please write something with Ben Poindexter x reader where they like match each other’s freak so to speak. She’s kinda like Maya Lopez in the way that she kills for people and someone hires her to kill Dex but she starts to like him the more that she like learns his routine and investigates him. I don’t know I just really like the idea of someone understanding Dex even though he kinda crazy fr.

No Longer Alone

Benjamin Poindexter x reader

Words: 1261

A/N: Love this idea! So good! I initially wanted to make it different from my other Dex fics but of course I just somehow ended up with writing about Dex and him being good, I’m sorry if you wanted something crazy but I had a blast writing this one

Warning: mention and like layout of Dex and that suicide scene that he was about to to do in season 3 back in the day, also gun mention (Idk if that needs a warning but just in case)

Is what you did honest work? While most would say no, especially considering you were essentially a hitman, you would argue yes. And the only reason you considered it honest work was because you always, always made sure to do thorough research before fully accepting a job. 

Your rule for a target was always the same: half payment up front, then after weeks of surveillance if you deemed the target culpable, you did what had to be done and then collected the rest of the money.

Surveillance was the most time consuming of the task, taking weeks to ultimately make the decision. You never wanted to take the life of anyone who had even a scrap of goodness to them out. 

And just like with any other target the same conditions applied to Benjamin Poindexter. 

Benjamin Poindexter. A.K.A. “Dex,” was currently an FBI agent. He was a former Brooklyn Suicide Preventer, and a former U.S. Army man. 

None of his past surprised you, you’ve had enough kills to know that it wasn’t what people showed others that made them a good person, it was what they didn’t that got you the call. 

In your first week of surveillance there were some intriguing things you noticed about the man. Firstly, you noticed how rigid his schedule was. Each day he stopped by the same locations. Some places were of course dealing with his occupation and necessary shopping, but other places seemed to be random. You did some more investigating to answer the main question here, why? And you easily found out the answer wasn’t something, but rather someone. Julie Barnes. 

Julie Barnes was an ex-coworker of Benjamin Poindexter from the suicide hotline center, and he seemed to have taken an infatuation towards her. Well you wouldn’t call it an infatuation. You didn’t know what it was, was it love? Curiosity? Or just pure obsession. Whatever it was intrigued you, because all he did at each and every place was watch her. He never did anything strange, just watched. 

While it was kind of ironic; you, stalking a stalker. You found it kind of endearing the way he looked at her. The look wasn’t fear-inducing, it wasn’t sinister, but sweet, with a joy-stricken smile appearing on his face every now and again, like he sincerely and genuinely cared for her. Frankly, it was cute. 

The other thing you noticed after keeping surveillance of him was his mentality, or rather his meltdowns. He seemed to have them not too often but frequent enough to the point that he knew precisely what to do when it did occur. You watched him a few times trying his best to collect his sanity, relying on cassette tapes and headphones that he pulled out from the closet. Each time you took note of how hard he worked to keep it all together. He was trying. And that was better than anything you could’ve said for any of your past targets. 

A week went by and something happened, you observed as Dex’s schedule almost instantly fell apart. He was suspended from his job, he had a falling out with Julie. 

You could tell it had an intense effect on him. 

That night, when you followed him home he appeared to have a multitude of emotion coursing through him. Upset, sadness, emptiness, you had a bad feeling in your gut watching it all unfold before you. 

Monitoring him through his window, you viewed as he roamed about his apartment slowly. He sat down and pulled a gun out laying it in front of him on the table. Eyes never leaving the scene, you watched as he looked to be actively battling his internal thoughts, contemplating deeply as he kept his head down, eyes fixated on the weapon.  

You could’ve walked away there, you could’ve turned a blind eye, let the job be done. But something in you knew that he could pull through this. Dex wasn’t a bad guy. He needed help.

Feet moving faster than your brain, they carried you out of your car and up the flight of steps trying their hardest to get you to him before he could do anything further. Running up you stopped at his door and frantically knocked. 

You didn’t know what was happening behind that door, you just hoped nothing drastic had happened yet. 

“Benjamin Poindexter! I need you to open this door right now!”

You stopped for a moment and heard quiet on his end, and your mind started running a course of thoughts. But then you heard it, some shuffling that sounded like it was getting closer, so you kept talking.

“You don’t know me, but I know you. I know you’re struggling Benjamin but you can pull through this…you’ve done it before, and you can and will do it again.”

Your head was close to the door waiting to hear any sound that might indicate he was still there. “You need help and I can get you help.” 

Then you heard it, a slow click coming from the doorknob. 

After waiting another second, the door then opened a crack revealing said man on the other side. You took note of his state, his eyes were filled with a watery appearance but he seemed to be stable at the moment. “How do you know my name?”

You let out an intense breath that you were holding in at the sight of him still alive. “Can we talk inside?”

Dex stared you down considering his decisions. 

“Please?”

Against his better judgment, he opened the door completely, allowing you to enter. Once inside, you took note of how clean and organized his place looked before turning around to him, “Hi. I was hired to investigate and kill you.”

Dex’s concentrated stare never faltered or swayed as he listened. 

“I can’t tell you who ordered it as that would be a violation of my legal contract but I can tell you that I’m not going to do it.”

He didn’t say anything, you weren’t sure if he was just taking it all in, plotting his next words, or controlling his emotions. 

“I’m not going to do it because I see an ounce of goodness in you. You are a man who is under heavy pressure, but even when your thoughts take over, you do your best to try to bring it back together. And Benjamin, that is all it takes. Trying.”

“Dex.” He corrected, which prompted you to repeat it back, “…Dex.”

Dex’s face softened, his expression no longer tense as his guard lowered. He believed you. He had no reason not to. The hit out on him was believable but you seeing goodness in him, he wanted to believe that too. 

“I…struggle when I’m alone…in my head sometimes I hear thoughts that hold me over the edge.”

“Well you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your card with a number on it. Dex’s eyes drop to it as you hold it out between your fingers. 

“If you ever feel alone, here’s my number.”

Dex was hesitant, staring at the card until finally, he reached out and took it. 

“You don’t have to be alone, Dex…call me.”

And with that last piece you shared you gave him a final look before walking out his front door. 

Dex’s eyes remained on the card that had your name printed on it. 

Did Dex think that he deserved to be killed that night? Yes. 

Was Dex happy that you saved his life? Only time would tell.

[red-nightwing]

benjamin poindexter moodboard →

[art-by-jas]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter x Reader

Rᴀᴛɪɴɢ: G

Wᴏʀᴅ Cᴏᴜɴᴛ: 560

Is it beta'd? No. Is it readable? Questionable considering I wrote it at midnight while being sleep-deprived. I just wanted to write something for him now that I saw he's coming back. I've missed him so much. Look this isn't much and I'm not used to writing but enjoy and comment if you'd like more.

With the day off from watching that idiot, Fisk, Dex decided to spend it with you. He picks you up from work most days, with today not being any different. He would rant about how dangerous the subway can be without him there to keep you safe. 

You would place your hand on his cheek, stroke his cheek with your thumb, and tell him how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like him who cared so much about you.

Swerving carelessly through the streets of Hell's Kitchen, Dex constantly checks the time, making sure you’re not waiting too long for him to come get you. He arrives at your workplace in record time, surprised that no cop tried to pull him over. 

Dex finds parking in front of the building before pulling out his phone to let you know he has arrived.

Oɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ!✨

He looks down at his phone, at your response, and reflects on how good everything is in his life. 

Hattley met with him this morning and complimented him on the most recent case he successfully closed, as well as his speed and efficiency. There was no one quite like him in this line of work, and he took pride in that.

Once in a while, Dex still listens to his Dr. Mercer tapes, hearing how she advised him to find someone new with a good heart who he could look up to, and that is where you entered his life.

Perfect you, altering his whole point of view. When he first saw you, you took his breath away. It took several attempts to work up the courage to approach you and speak with you. Those first few times, it was just Dex staring at you from a distance or watching you from his van through his binoculars. Once he got the nerve to talk to you, everything went smoothly, and it did not take him long to fall for you.

He looked over the building's main doors and noticed you power-walking to his car, a big smile on your face. Dex could not help but mirror the expression; you always bring out his playful, romantic side. Your outfit swayed in the spring breeze, making you look that much more beautiful.

"Hey, honey," you say as you open the passenger door and get in, "thank you for picking me up. I know you're probably busy with work."

Butterflies flutter around his rib cage in response to your voice. He adores everything about you. 

“It’s no problem, seriously. I can’t have my girlfriend take the subway or, worse, walk all the way home by herself. " What type of boyfriend would I be?" Dex chuckles.

You lean over and peck his cheek with your warm, soft, and plush mouth before kissing him on the tip of his nose. His eyes close, and his smile grows. Heat rises along his cheekbones, and the blush spreads down his neck. He loves how much attention and care you have for him. He’s never had anything like it.

"I'm just so lucky to have you, Dex. I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend," you say with a grin.

Dex reaches over and takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently before starting the car and pulling away from the curb.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Reciprocate the Feeling

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x F!Reader

Genre: angst and smut oops, 18+ content

Summary: You and Dex aren't technically allowed to be together, but that doesn't stop you from seeing each other–and having feelings. Where your strength is with words, Dex's is with touch.

Words: 2,221

It wasn’t allowed, what they were doing.

Well, it wasn’t allowed in the obvious sense. No one told them they couldn’t be doing this—it was one of those unspoken things that everyone knew wasn’t allowed. 

Did that stop them? 

It never does. 

She breathes him in like it’s her first breath of fresh air after holding it in for so long—gasping for air to fill her lungs—gasping for him to fill all her senses. Her heart was hammering in her ribcage from the adrenaline it still brought her—the adrenaline he made her feel. It only made her that much more attached to him, more than she already was. The physicalness of it all only made it stronger. Her feelings, that is. 

Dex nudged his nose against her cheek—they were that close—as a way to gently push her in the direction he wanted her to go. Dex, the trained FBI agent, skilled sniper, who has seen many a horrid view and has done even worse (all a part of the job) gently pushes her with the tip of his nose as a way to indicate he wants her in his bed. It wasn’t shocking to him that he was capable of doing something so gently. It was shocking that she obliged. She knows what he’s capable of—knows he’s got a sniper sitting in his closet, locked behind a safe—and yet, she obliges. And yet, she trusts him. He’s not sure how he managed to earn that from her. 

He’s never done anything to her that could make her think she shouldn’t trust him. In her eyes, he worked for the FBI. He was a good guy. He was the handsome sniper who kept to himself but somehow could only open up to her. He was just Dex in her eyes. Her eyes were now closed, lips attached to his. Dex guided her in that gentle way he knew she liked. His hand caressed the back of her neck, and his other used the small of her back to hold her steady. He walked her backward into his room. 

There was no need to shut the door behind him and lock it. It was just the two of them, safe in his apartment. The outside world didn’t matter when it was just them like this. There was no work, no FBI, no tasks, or any of the harsh, mundane things he dealt with on a daily basis. It was just her in front of him, in his hands. Her soft skin and soft hair were between his fingertips. Her lips were on his. Her hands were on his shoulders. He gently lays her down. The warmth of his lips is gone as he pulls back to look down at her. 

“Come back here,” she whispers with a mischievous smile, bedroom eyes looking up at him as he knelt on the bed between her legs. 

“Yes ma’am,” Dex says equally as quietly. He mirrors her movements as he mirrors the way she speaks to him sometimes. If she indicated she wanted to be touched, he touched her. If she spoke softly, he did too. It was his way of ensuring he wasn’t doing anything wrong to make her leave. He wouldn’t dare to do something to have her out of his grasp. His hold. 

He leans down again but this time snakes his arms underneath her, lifting her further up his bed so her head lays on his pillows. She was light as a feather in his arms. He pushes away her hair so her neck is exposed for him to taste. Dex traces the hollow of her neck with the tip of his nose before pressing gentle kisses on her skin. She turns her head more and closes her eyes. She places her fingers in his dirty blonde hair and scratches his head. Dex loves it when she does that. 

He meets her eyes again before leaning down and kissing her lips. He held her gaze for a moment, wondering what thoughts were happening in her head. He was absentmindedly playing with the hem of her leggings, timid to slide them off her legs. Dex was never as forward as she was when it came to getting intimate, but he made small, intimate gestures—small ways to ask for permission, without using words. 

“You can take them off,” she tells him softly. She found it sweet that he was acting this way. She’s never been with someone who touched her as gently as Dex did. 

Dex nods, ever so slightly, and wraps his thumbs on the inside of her leggings, slowly taking them off her one leg at a time. Her left ankle rested on his shoulder. He ran his hand up the length of her leg, caressing her skin. 

“I don’t let anyone touch me the way I let you, Dex,” she tells him in that same soft manner. Dex doesn’t know how to react. He just holds her gaze as he continues caressing her leg. Her other leg is between his parted knees. He turns his head to kiss her ankle. The more she opens up about her feelings, the more he wants to touch her. It was his way of reciprocating. Her feelings met with his physical touch. 

“Does someone else have access to you?” Dex asks her, his face darkening at the question. He was teasing, but how she worded her sentence before tempted him to ask anyway. Dex runs his fingers up and down her legs. 

Immediately, she shakes her head before she speaks. “No. Only you.”

Even though he knew the answer, Dex still let out a sigh of relief. Good—he was still the only one who had her attention. All of it. He had to keep it this way, whatever it took. 

Dex kisses her down the length of her leg, holding onto her waist with his other hand. He wants to have her completely exposed to him, but not yet. He gently takes her leg off his shoulder and leans over her again, forehead to forehead. She closes her eyes as he kisses her again. She presses her lips on his, feeling his skin as soft as leather, brushing against her cheeks. She didn’t know when it happened, but their hands were interlaced now, with Dex pinning them on either side of her head. 

He pulls back for a moment after sharing another deep kiss. Dex looks down at her, amused by how she looks so comfortable in his bed—comfortable to be beneath him. After everything he’s been through and all the secrets he’s kept locked up inside, he never thought someone like her could end up in his bed like this. And time and time again. She keeps coming back—he keeps letting her. 

“What are you thinking?” She asks him quietly, a hint of a smile on her face. Now it was her turn to be amused by him.

He looks away from her, feeling seen. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Dex,” she replies. She squeezes his hands. “Tell me.”

That’s the part he can’t do. The telling—the forming of words to accurately describe what he feels inside. She was so good at it. If he asked her the same thing right now, he’d bet she would say it without difficulty. 

“What are you thinking?” He asks her, mirroring the hint of a smile. 

“I’m thinking about… how much I like being with you,” she says easily. Dex knew it. “I’m thinking about how I feel connected to you.”

He’s equally terrified and amused at what she says. But he doesn’t let it show on his face. He looks serious suddenly, jaw clenched at the word connected. He wished he could reciprocate the feeling—the very foreign feeling of connection—that he was almost sure he felt with her. But wasn’t, at the same time. 

The only way he can respond is with physical touch. Not with words. 

He’s playing with the hem of her thin black underwear now. He slowly folds the top to expose where he wants to see but doesn’t completely pull it down. He’s asking for permission again. 

“Take it off,” she whispered. 

He wanted to, and he will soon, but he wanted to soak in this moment. He’s not sure how many more moments they’ll have like this together. He didn’t want to take it for granted and he especially didn’t want to rush anything. He knew that for sure. Because the most constant pattern in Dex’s life is he can never keep too good of a thing. Good things sometimes came but they never were for him to keep—for it to belong to him. It wasn’t in his cards.

He flips the top of her underwear again and covers the exposed skin. 

“I will,” Dex whispered. “But not until I take my time first.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. She feels his fingertips trace her ribcage as he pushes her shirt up. He unclips her bra from the back and slides it off her. Dex didn’t hesitate to take a nipple in his mouth, licking her sensitive bud until he felt it harden against his tongue. When it was, he moved to her other nipple and did the same thing. 

He pulled back and ran his hands down the length of her side, taking the image of her in and putting it to memory. He continues caressing her skin, not touching any intimate parts of her. She likes that he doesn’t. 

She can see his hardness through his jeans. She reaches to touch him through the soft fabric. It disrupts his caressing only for a moment as he closes his eyes and realizes how badly he needs to be touched—by her. He feels his cock harden even more the way she rubs her hand back and forth. The feeling is so intense he has to take her hand away as he catches his breath. 

He crashes his lips down to meet hers, taking her lips in a wet passionate kiss. She wraps her legs around his waist and brings him closer, feeling his hardness between her legs. Dex pushes against her and breathes deeply to control himself. He doesn’t want to take it there tonight. 

“Do you want to—“

“I don’t know,” he says. “Can I just keep touching you?” 

“Yes,” she says. “That’s fine with me.”

Dex slides her shirt off her, so she’s completely naked from the top. He kisses the skin between her breasts and holds his hands at her waist. He kisses down to her belly button. His fingers play with the top of her underwear again. This time, he’s ready. But he looks up at her once more for permission.

“Yes.”

Dex slowly pulls her underwear down her legs until they’re completely off. She lay there fully naked in front of him. And all he wants to do is take her in. Every curve, every movement her body made. He starts with his thumb at her clit, brushing feather-like strokes and watching her react to his touch. He knows she likes this. It was written all over her face. 

“Do you trust me?” Dex asks. 

“Yes,” she nods. He’s amused again at her honesty and ease at answering anything he asked. In response, Dex lowers his mouth to her wetness and kisses her heat. She presses her head further into his pillow and closes her eyes as Dex dances his tongue in her wet folds, slowly and taking his time. He traces his tongue agonizingly slow up her slit and stops to gently suck on her clit. He pulls back momentarily when he hears her moaning and kisses her inner thigh. He goes back to kissing her heat and takes hold of her hand as she finally orgasms against his mouth, her wetness coating his lips.

“Dex,” she breathes out as she reaches her climax, heavy breathing and body shaking, fingers tangled in his hair. Before she can even think, Dex already has her wrapped in his arms, holding her until her heart rate returns to a normal pace and she’s breathing steadily, no longer shaking. He holds her and kisses her shoulders as she nuzzles her head in the crook of his neck. Dex is staring outside his window, grateful the world is outside and they are safely tucked inside, away from it all. 

After a while, he feels her fall asleep in his arms. He’s running his fingers through her hair, unable to fall asleep. After what felt like an hour, he felt her stir in her sleep. She kisses his neck and pulls back to look up at him. 

“I should go,” she says sleepily. 

“You don’t have to,” Dex gently protests. “I want you to stay.” 

“Are you sure?” She asks, clearly unused to the invitation. 

“Yes,” Dex says. That was the thing he was most sure about. She sighed back into his embrace. He held her tighter than before. 

He just liked holding her. He liked having her this close. To take it that far would mean the completion of what they had and shared was coming soon. Just one more night of pining—of holding it in and letting actions speak for themselves. 

[shadowbriar]

Hello, everyone!

I'm trying to get back into writing, esp with Daredevil characters in celebration of them coming back into our lives, so if you have any requests, please feel free to knock on my dm! x

[everythingsf1ne23]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞

 | 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘳 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 💌:

enjoy my lovelies <33 ~Jess

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 📝:

in which, Dex took her by surprise by asking her out on a date and this is how the date goes 

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘷:

When Dex asked me out, I must admit I was quite surprised as I thought that I wouldn’t be pretty enough for him but here I am in my apartment getting ready, 

I’ve treated myself to a short sage green dress for this date, I decide to pair it with white platform heels, my handbag and lastly I put a white bow in my hair.

Afterwards, I start my makeup and I check the time, 6:30pm so that means I only have half an hour to finish getting ready, 

I do my makeup quite natural and I finish off with a spritz of perfume. 

Just after I finish getting ready, the doorbell to my home rings indicating that Dex is here, I practically run to the door with excitement.

I lock the door to my house and I turn to face Dex, he is dressed up real nice.

“Wow you look absolutely stunning!” Dex exclaims and I could feel my cheeks turning rosy 

“Thank you, you’re looking very handsome” I reply as he takes my hand into his own

“No problem and thanks, I don’t get told that very often”

“Well you should be told that and hopefully I’ll be able to tell you more often”

I say without thinking and I look over to see Dex smiling

“That’s obviously only if you still like me and my company after this date” I tell him and he looks directly into my eyes,

“I’ve been crushing on you for ages, I don’t think I could ever get tired of you and your company” 

The two of us continue walking hand in hand while talking for a few moments,

“So where are you taking me for our date?” I ask Dex with a soft smile.

“I remember you telling me that you love Italian food so I assumed that an Italian 

restaurant would be a good option

 for this date”, my heart melts I can’t believe that he remembers me telling him that especially after I only said it once 

“That sounds amazing!” I respond.

We’re now at our table, it has a window view which is nice ‘cause I like looking out of windows but something tells me that tonight I won’t be looking out that window very often as I’ll be looking right at the beautiful man in front of me.

I quickly look through the menu and I pick out carbonara as that’s my favourite,

“I’m gonna get the carbonara, what are you gonna have?” I ask him out of curiosity and also because I love how he speaks.

“I’m thinking of having the spaghetti bolognese”, Dex replies and his eyes are on me again 

“That’s a great choice!” I exclaim with a bright smile and then we order our meals

“You’re always so bubbly and kind, I really admire that about you” I watch Dex smiling at me and he has a glimmer in his eyes,

“Aww I always try to be” 

“I’ve been thinking about this date all week” Our meals come over quicker than expected to us and we tuck in straight away

“I have to, I’ve been so excited but honestly I wasn’t expecting you to ask me out, I thought that you would have went for someone prettier than me” I reply with honesty in my voice, suddenly Dex reaches across the table and he takes my hands into his

“You’re joking right? There’s no girl like you here, I mean you’re kind, honest and really pretty, you don’t find those qualities all in one girl very often and it may be too early to say this but I’m saying it anyways, honestly you might be the one for me”

I didn’t realise I was crying but after a while, I felt my cheeks getting wet and Dex reaches over to me with a tissue

“Are you okay?” He asks softly and I nod 

“Yeah I am, I’ve just never felt this loved before” I wipe my tears away with my tissue and I sigh as I’ve probably ruined my makeup 

“Well you deserve to and I’ll make sure that you feel loved everyday”

“Really?” I ask taking another bite of my carbonara 

“Yes of course I will”

The both of us finish our meal asking questions about one another, we take glances and smiles at each other every so often 

“I’ve had a great time with you”, I tell him as we exit the restaurant 

“I’m glad that you did” 

We notice that it’s raining outside but thankfully my house is quite close to the restaurant, I notice Dex sighing as he knew that he would have to walk back to his apartment in the rain

“You can stay with me tonight if you want, I wouldn’t want you getting a cold by getting all wet from this rain” I suggest to Dex

“Okay that would be actually great” 

Dex and I reach my house, I fumble with the keys for a few moments but then I find the right key for the front door, 

“I’ll sleep on the sofa if that’s okay” Dex tells me, 

“You could share my bed with me” 

I reply with a flirtatious smile and with that, Dex joins me to my bedroom.

We change out of our wet clothes and afterwards we lay beside each other in my bed,

“You know I couldn’t ask for anyone better than you Dex” I speak out and I turn my head to look at him 

“You’re genuinely the best thing that’s ever happened to me”, my heart melts once more after I hear him say this,

I feel so comfortable around Dex so I ask him,

“Usually I wouldn’t ask this after a first date but can I kiss you?” 

I watch his face light up,

“Yeah I’d really like that”

“Oh would you?” 

I tease him while leaning in 

“Yes obviously” I press my lips against his, it feels so right like it was meant to be,

we pull away after a few moments 

“I really enjoyed that” Dex tells me with a cheeky grin,

“I’m glad ‘cause there’s plenty more for you pretty boy” 

And with that, I lay on his chest as we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

A New Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fisk!Daughter Reader, Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Fisk!Daughter Reader

Summary: The daughter of Wilson Fisk walks a dangerous line between power and passion in Hell’s Kitchen. When Matt Murdock confronts her in the bar of her father’s Presidential Hotel, warning her about Benjamin Poindexter—her latest entanglement—wearing the Daredevil suit and wreaking havoc, she refuses to play into his self-righteousness. Matt sees her making the same mistakes as Fisk, but she insists she’s always one step ahead.

Inspired by: @prince-septimus 's headcannon? oneshot? about this topic.

The city breathes like a beast beneath you—alive, hungry, always watching. Hell’s Kitchen was never yours, not really, but it wasn't his either. Not Murdock’s. Not Dex’s. Not your father’s. It belonged to the shadows in between, and you had learned to navigate them with ease.

And yet, even as you sat across from Matt in the sleek, dimly lit bar of the Presidential Hotel—now your father’s hotel—you could feel the weight of all three men pressing in around you. Your father. Your ex. Your... whatever Dex was now.

"You shouldn’t be here," you murmured, swirling your drink lazily as you avoided looking at him. "You shouldn’t have called me."

Matt smiled that infuriating little smirk of his, the one that made you want to either punch him or kiss him, depending on the day. "Then why did you answer the phone?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "Say what you need to say, Murdock."

"It’s about Poindexter."

You went still. A slow blink. A measured breath. "What about him?"

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, lowering his voice. "He’s wearing my suit."

The words barely had time to settle before you scoffed. "And?"

His jaw tensed. "And he’s using it to tear this city apart."

You rolled your eyes. "Spare me the theatrics. You think I don’t know what he does? You think I don’t know what you do? The only difference between the two of you is a red suit and a self-righteous complex."

Matt exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "You don’t see it, do you?"

You tilted your head, challenging him. "See what?"

"You think you’re different from your father. That you’re smarter than him, better. But you’re making the same mistake. You’re letting a man who was made to kill whisper sweet things in your ear, and you’re pretending he won’t turn on you when the time comes."

A slow smile curled your lips, sharp and cruel. "Oh, Matty. The difference between my father and me is that I don’t pretend he won’t. I just plan for when he does."

Matt’s expression darkened. "Then you know how this ends."

You reached for your drink again, raising it slightly. "Everything ends, Matthew. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it while it lasts."

Dex was waiting for you when you got back to your apartment. Sitting on your couch like he belonged there, a knife in his hands, flipping it between his fingers with that eerie precision of his.

"Was he convincing?" he asked without looking up.

You let out a breath, kicking off your heels. "He’s worried about you. Thinks you’re unstable."

Dex snorted. "Takes one to know one."

You smirked, making your way toward him, settling onto his lap without hesitation. He let you, hands immediately resting against your hips, firm and possessive.

"What do you think?" he asked, voice dropping lower. "Am I unstable?"

You ran your fingers through his hair, tilting his head back just slightly. "I think you’re dangerous," you murmured. "And I think I like it."

His eyes darkened, his grip tightening. "Careful, princess. You might start sounding just like your father."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, barely a whisper of a touch. "Then it’s a good thing I never wanted to be anything else."

Dex’s breath hitched just slightly before he yanked you down into a bruising kiss, sharp and consuming, as if he wanted to mark you from the inside out.

You wanted him to.

Because Matt was wrong.

You weren’t your father.

You were worse.

[takenbypeter]

Dinner Date Trouble

Benjamin Poindexter x reader

Words: 738

A/N: This story is really lame but I wrote it awhile ago and just wanted to post it cuz I wanted to post something with Dex since March 4th is almost hereeeee

Benjamin Poindexter knew he was a lucky man to have found you. 

He knew he wasn’t the only one who thought this way. There were probably a number of people who looked at you two and thought you could do better, he just knew it. But still you always managed to assure him of your love for him. But Dex knew who he was. He was a harsh, critical, and harmful man. The list was endless for him. But still you always assured him he was a good man. Now though he had another quality to add to that list. Jealousy. 

Dex didn’t blame you for how others acted but he sure as hell was irritated when someone was being just plain obvious. 

Take this one guy that was seated close by at the restaurant’s bar stool. 

He’d already been sneaking glances your way since you’ve arrived and Dex has heard him make not one, not two, but three remarks about you to his friend nearby. 

Dex knew he had to control himself but with each lingering glance he’d grip his knife tighter and tighter. 

Dex held himself back, but he couldn’t stop his own eyes from staring daggers at the man. 

He had been so focused on his anger that he hadn’t realized the red that started to slowly drip from his hand onto the white table cloth. 

It was your voice that broke him out of his trance. 

“Dex?” Your voice was firm but concerned while your hand reached for a nearby napkin. 

Dex, who didn’t even realize what he was doing, loosened his grip as he blinked out of his trance and dropped the utensil that had his blood still on it.

“I…I’m fine.”

Your eyebrows pulled down while you frowned. Taking his hand, you turned it over before pressing the napkin to the cut he managed to get. 

He glanced over at the guy who was shaking his head and now chuckling to himself. 

Feeling embarrassed by his actions he pushed his chair out, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

And with that he left.

You sat back in your chair, letting out a knowing sigh. He’s done this before. You know he was trying to do better for you. But it was hard for him. 

You didn’t know what he was doing in the bathroom, tending his wound? probably. Giving himself a pep talk? Somewhat likely. All you knew was that he was strong, he could get through it. Glancing around the room as time progressed looked at the decor of the restaurant before your eyes land on another pair to the side of you. 

Thinking it to be coincidental you break contact before giving one more glance back and finding the man directly staring at you. His eyes were focused as if determined. Honestly it felt weird and creepy. 

No longer feeling comfortable, you made the executive decision, grabbed Dex’s jacket and waited by the men’s bathroom entrance which was luckily hidden behind a wall out of anyone’s lurking eyes.

You stood leaning across from the door for a little bit, his jacket folded between your crossed arms, until eventually it opened. 

“Hey,” you muttered, catching Dex a little off guard.  

His eyes fell to his jacket which you held out for him, “let’s get out of here.”

Dex pressed his lips together, “but you’ve been wanting to come here.”

“Eh this place is starting to give me the creeps.”

He frowned, giving you a look, “was it the guy in blue?”

You hesitated, answering his question without answering his question. 

Getting his answer he turned on his heel. Knowing exactly where he was headed you quickly reached out to grab his hand causing him to pause with his back turned to you, “Dex no please, let’s just go. There’s this ice cream place down the street I wanted to check out.”

He gritted his teeth, his nose practical flaring. But feeling your hand squeeze his tighter he relaxes and lets out a single breath, his shoulders dropping as he does so. 

“Let’s go.”

Your cheeks pull upwards and Dex’s already feeling better about the rest of this night. 

Pulling you into his arm he leads the way towards the exit, but not before making sure he caught one last look at the man. 

Dex may not do something about him at the moment but you can bet he won’t forget that face. 

[fallingfavourites]

the long awaited mag edits are so back baby

@petertingle-yipyip ex is literally my all time fav xreader ever (i say as im 50 chapters behind with reading)

oh help I meant to post this on @favouritesarefalling ... well okay ig 😭

sc: .yhvxy / fromlightwood / vilictoriaaaa.wp (all on tiktok) - diggorq (on ig) - clips & talks / 7diiamond / various yt videos (all on yt)

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

organized fanfic with links to chapters, for easier access (ongoing)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

Clash in the Court

The Losing Team

Start Of Something Better... or Worse?

Shadows of the Past

Not Again

Strange Thoughts

Into the Ring

Union Allies

Bitter Company

Innocent Get What They Deserve

Mixing Business

Coffee Delusions

Crack in the Walls

Back when it all made Sense

Karma is a...

Breaking rules is fun (and dangerous)

The Big Call

Unexpected Encounter

Things are about to change

Old Friends, New Beginnings

Jealousy, Jealousy

In the Blood

Smoking Day

Time is a Fragile Thing

King's Right Hand

Chasing Wind in the Dead of Night

Deadly Dance

Chasing Wind in the Dead of Night, pt. 2

World on Fire

I don't want to be a part of this

Grasping the Straws

Better if you Do

Lawyers, Guns and Money, pt. 1

Lawyers, Guns and Money, pt. 2

Man-Eater

Interlude

bad idea, right?

Poisonous Affair

Nelson v Murdock

running away is all I know

Guilty Crimes

Field Day

my world was falling apart

The ones we left behind

not the best lawyer, but a goddamn good criminal

Daredevil

All 'thanks' to the Devil

this might've been just a dream, right?

Another night in Hell's Kitchen

of first dates and men

Bang

Dogs to a Gunfight